Change
by Kirachu
Summary: Things do change, sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse. (Momo, Ryoma)


**Change**  
By Kira (mikilicious_babe@hotmail.com) 

---

_I've spent so much time throwing rocks at your window  
That I never even knocked on the front door_

Somewhere in the course of their friendship, knocking had become a lesser prerogative. Why bother with the door, Momo proclaimed, when all he had to do was hurl a decent size pebble at the upstairs window? The brilliant plan had not panned out as well as he had hoped in the beginning; the first time he tried the ingenious greeting call, he had forgotten which window belonged to Echizen. 

Nanako had not been impressed. 

But the second time, he had perfected his methods, and there was always an endless supply of rocks for the picking outside the fence. Ryoma had learned to grow accustomed to being woken up promptly at eight each morning when Momo would pass the house on his way to school. He called it 'just a friendly reminder.' And, though Ryoma would never admit it aloud, it had saved him several mornings from waking up late and missing his classes. 

Soon, knocking happened so rarely, Ryoma hardly realized when it stopped altogether. Momo would throw rocks at his window in the morning, in the afternoon when he wanted a tennis match or a trip to the burger shop, and on the weekends to drag the younger boy to the street tennis courts. His mother started to ask where the pile of rocks beneath his window were coming from, and ducking his head, Ryoma could only tug down his baseball cap and mutter that he had no idea. 

He didn't mind the pebbles clinking against his window; after awhile, he started to be disappointed on the days the sound never came. 

The first night he heard the rocks hitting the windowpanes, a good two hours after he had gotten into bed, he had been more annoyed than surprised. Poking his head out the window, he glared his senpai and told him to go away -- didn't he have any concept of time? But Momo whined and carried on, voice reaching high enough of a pitch Ryoma had cringed and looked over his shoulder, fully expecting his mother or father to be standing in the doorframe and wondering what in the world was going on. But his parents never heard Momo's voice, and they never heard the sound of the stairs creaking as Ryoma slowly took them step by step, and they never heard the sound of the door closing. 

Momo explained, a sheepish smile splattered across his face, that sometimes he had trouble sleeping, and had taken up on walks through the neighborhood. 

Ryoma soon learned there were many nights Momo didn't sleep well. 

Just like the gradual change of no longer hearing a knock at the door, he grew accustomed to the occasional late night visit, and sometimes, he worried the nights he never heard the clatter of rocks against his window. 

Also, he learned to do without as much sleep as he was used to; sometimes the nightly walks lasted hours, and he was back in bed again when it was only another two hours until class. His father made jokes that he had a wild nightlife on the town he was hiding from he and his mother, and he would roll his eyes and ask that Nanako pass the milk. Nanjirou never had been very observant of his surroundings anyway, or he might have noticed sooner his son walking through the neighborhood with his insomnia-ridden best friend. 

They talked about plenty of things on the walks through the neighborhood -- school, homework, and of course, tennis. Sometimes Ryoma would look behind them and see Karupin following, tired and wanting to curl up in a warm bed, but too curious to leave them alone. 

Neither seemed to realize how long it had gone on. It became routine for them, like homework and tennis practice, and the trips to the burger shop after classes. It was just another thing they did. 

But things changed. 

It wasn't gradual. It did not happen as simply as the knocking had stopped or the late night visits had come; Momo simply did not see Echizen. And the same as Ryoma worried when he never heard the sound of rocks striking the window, Momo worried when he threw the rocks, and no one answered. 

Ryoma did not come to school. The first day, Momo had shrugged it away, assuming him sick. He had not gone to his house that day. But the second, he began to worry, and on his way home from practice, he stopped and tossed a rock at the window. It struck and fell to the ground to join the pile that had accumulated over the months, that Nanjirou still refused to clean up -- but the window did not open, and the front door did not smack against the wall as Ryoma tumbled out of the house. 

The third day, he came that night, but no one answered. The third morning, he tried to call -- he even knocked on the door. This time, someone answered, but it was Nanako, and she only asked for him to come back later. "How much later?" he had asked, but she shook her head and murmured, "I don't know." 

He went to morning practice the fourth day, to his classes, and to afternoon practice. He didn't stop at the burger shop on his way home, and he did not stop outside of the Echizen household to throw rocks at the window. 

Momo went to bed doubting he would see Ryoma at school the next morning. 

Clink. 

Curled up in bed, he tugged his pillow tighter around his ears -- one of his sisters was up in the middle of the night again making too much noise. 

But then it came again, a 'clink' sound against his windowpanes. 

He flung out of bed and went to the window, throwing it open and unable to hold in the sigh of relief when he saw Ryoma there, standing in the middle of his backyard. The younger boy had his arms wrapped around his waist and was shivering in the cold, and the relief Momo felt washed away when he lifted his head and Momo saw tears. 

He didn't care if anyone heard him as he thundered down the stairs; he wasn't as cautious as Echizen. Barefoot, dressed only in shorts and a t-shirt, he stumbled into the yard and to his friend. 

"Do you know how worried I've been about you? I tried calling, I went to your house, I asked Ryuzaki-sensei, I asked _everybody_, and you--" 

"My father is dead." 

He felt his heart drop into his stomach. 

"Car accident... a few days ago..." 

"Oh, geez, Echizen... I..." 

"You remember, Momo-senpai, the crazy monk you were always complaining about? He's... was... my father, and... I was too embarrassed to tell anyone..." 

There was nothing he could say. He reached out a hand, hesitating, and then plunged forward, resting his palm on the younger boy's shoulder and gripping tightly. He felt Ryoma beginning to shake under his grip, and then the other boy collapsed against him, and the realization he was _crying_ struck Momo. Echizen, who always tried to be so tough, who refused to let anyone push him around; he was _crying_. 

And then he realized there was nothing he could _do_. 

But Ryoma didn't seem to want anything. He just stood there, crying, and Momo slowly put a hand on his back and hoped it was enough. 

Echizen slept at his house that night. The younger boy nearly fell asleep in his arms, standing there in the cold in the middle of the night, but Momo was able to pull him inside. He put him on the couch and covered him with a spare blanket, and when Echizen had fallen asleep, Momo went upstairs to wake his parents and tell them what happened. Both were sympathetic, and when morning came, with Momo along for the ride, his parents took Echizen home to his near frazzled mother and cousin. 

Momo did not see him again for a week. But one morning practice, running laps around the courts, Momo had seen a familiar baseball cap, tennis bag and jersey, head ducked low as he disappeared into the locker rooms. He smiled then, a strained smile, but he was relieved. 

Things did change back to normal. 

It was gradual this time, as gradual as the shift from knocking on the door and throwing rocks at the window in the middle of the night. But slowly, Ryoma became the same person he had been. He argued with Eiji and Kaidoh, gave his usual cocky 'mada mada dane' insult when he won his matches, and was the subject of constant awe from the other freshmen. Sometimes Momo would see him staring off into nothing, but gradually, that faded, too. 

And sometimes, it was Ryoma who threw rocks at windows. 


End file.
